The Willow Wand
by SkinnyLittleLesbian
Summary: In which Emma Swan is a Hufflepuff. Swan Queen. Now Complete.
1. Chapter 1

Emma pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders. High in one of the towers, tucked against a window, even the thick material did little to mitigate the chill in the air. While her teeth chattered, she considered how much warmer it would be in the Hufflepuff common room. And how much louder. She loved her housemates, but as the holidays approached and they grew excited about going home to see their families, she grew despondent.

More than once she'd been invited along with some of her closer friends – but every offer was politely declined. She was her own family. She'd decided that years ago, and she didn't need a mother, or a father, or a handful of siblings. Since starting Hogwarts, she'd stayed within the walls at every possible opportunity. This would be her fourth Christmas away from her foster home and she didn't regret the decision in the slightest.

She drew a thicker line and stared down at her creation. It was a terrible obsession – a dead end, according to her friends – but she couldn't help it. The other girl's eyes were cold and direct, at the same time as they were fiery and passionate. She wanted to drown in them, but they were so rarely focused on her. Even when she went out of her way to get Mills's attention, the older girl usually brushed past her with a brief, derogatory glare.

"Swan?"

Flipping her sketchbook closed, Emma flushed and smiled at the professor waiting behind her. "Oh, I know it's almost curfew. I'm sorry. I'll get back to the common room."

"No rush." The man folded his hands on top of his cane and gazed at her. Despite his rheumy eyes, he seemed to see her clearly. "I was merely wondering what you're doing up here alone, when the rest of your house is celebrating the coming holidays."

"I like the solitude." She hopped down from the stony sill upon which she had been seated. "And I like the cold."

"Nobody's going to begrudge you that."

"Well, thanks for the concern. I'll go join them now."

He nodded slowly. "Don't let an old man stop you."

"Happy Holidays, Professor." She hurried past him, wondering idly if he'd spotted what she was drawing. It didn't really matter – she wasn't quite good enough that anyone could identify her subject matter, and his eye sight was poor – but she was afraid someone would find out and embarrass her somehow.

0-0-0

"Gold." Regina pushed him against the wall, uncaring of how it looked – her tall stately figure bullying a slight child with a limp. Most who knew him also knew that his stature was simply part of his disguise. He avoided trouble and blame by appearing pitiful and weak. It made her feel ill.

"Why, Regina – what can I do for you?"

She loosened her grip on his blue and gold tie. "Would you care to explain why I am to serve detention for the next two weeks?"

His lips twitched up momentarily, but then straightened out into a blank expression. "Have you done something worthy of punishment?"

"Of course not." Regina knew better than to step out of line. The last time she'd lost house points for Slytherin, her mother had sent a Howler every morning for a week. The humiliation still sometimes drew heat to the tips of her ears.

"Perhaps there was a mistake?"

"Gold, I am perfectly aware of your hand in my punishment." She jabbed her finger against his shoulder. "What lie did you concoct to implicate me in your damn schemes?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He smiled at a passing professor, indicating that there was nothing amiss.

"I'm going to make sure you pay for this." She hissed, releasing her grip entirely and stepping back. He neatened his garb.

"That's large talk. I don't think you can back up your claims. Seeing as you're so averse to costing your beloved house any points."

Her lip curled back into a snarl. "Why you-"

"Temper, dearie." He limped down the hallway. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have practice to attend to."

0-0-0

Emma left the quidditch pitch, a bounce in her step. The team was doing well this season and she had high hopes that the first match after the holidays would end with a Hufflepuff victory. Ravenclaw's team was good, she thought, but Hufflepuff was going to be better. They'd recently had to hold try outs for a keeper, after Booth got hit with a jinx that turned half his body to wood. He was no good to them when his limbs kept locking up.

The new kid was quick, if a bit young and too emotionally invested in the game. Every time a quaffle slipped past him, he was pawing at his eyes. No matter how much the captain urged him to man up, he cried at every mistake. Thankfully he caught more than he missed.

"Hey, Swan."

She turned and watched him hustle to her side. "Need something, Humbert?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Just wondering if you were planning on going to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

"No."

Her abrupt refusal derailed him and he fumbled with something more to say. "Oh, yeah, that's cool. Maybe another time?"

"Yeah." He ran past her towards the castle, but before she could call after him, she found herself face to face with a pair of eyes she'd always recognize. "Mills."

"Oh good. You know who I am. This makes it simpler. You will practice with me."

"Isn't it against the rules?" Emma glanced around the empty pitch. "I mean, you're on Slytherin… And seriously like the best chaser since… well, in at least the past twenty years, if the trophies are anything to go by."

Regina frowned. "You're turning down my assistance?"

"Oh no! I'd love to – if you're offering, I mean, and I'm not going to get in trouble for saying yes." Emma paused. "Uh, can I ask why the sudden interest? I mean, I didn't even think you knew who I was before now."

"I didn't. Do you accept?"

"Yeah. Yes. That'd be really cool." Emma felt like Humbert, and suddenly regretted her brusque treatment of the hopeful boy.

"Meet me here tomorrow at four."

0-0-0

"A Shooting Star."

Emma clung to her broom. "It's a loaner."

"How do you manage to accomplish anything? There are faster butterflies." Regina scoffed.

"It suits me just fine. You don't have to be the fastest."

"It certainly doesn't hurt."

"Can we get on with this?"

"I suppose it can't be helped. Mount up."

Emma swung her leg over the stick and zipped into the air. As she watched Regina mount her own broomstick with elegant grace, she wondered just how hard this could actually be. Two hours later, pouring sweat and frustrated, Emma regretted ever thinking about accepting Regina's offer.

"You're not dodging fast enough."

Emma clutched the red ball to her chest. "You're not being bitchy enough. Care to try a little harder?"

"Are you content with being insufficient?" Regina snarled. "It's no wonder you stay here every holiday. I suppose your family just doesn't want to take you back."

For a moment, Emma hovered motionless, but then she drifted slowly down to the pitch. Regina rolled her eyes and followed, intent on continuing their lesson no matter the cost. Emma was being too sensitive, and Regina needed her tough and quick if Gold was to be taken down a peg.

"Thanks for the lesson and all…" Emma tumbled from her broom. She was off towards the castle before Regina made it to the ground.

"You forgot your bag!" Regina sighed. The Hufflepuff chaser was more trouble than she was worth, despite being the most promising player on the team. She picked the discarded messenger bag up, but it was unbuckled and upside down. The contents spilled onto the pitch. Regina shoved everything back inside, but paused at the sight of the sketchbook.

0-0-0

"Your bag."

Emma dropped her fork and stared up at Regina. "I've been looking everywhere for that…"

"You left it on the pitch."

"Thanks." Emma hooked her hand on the shoulder strap, but Regina didn't let go.

"We need to have a discussion."

"Now?"

"Yes." Regina raised a haughty eyebrow. "You're almost done eating as it is. Join me in the hallway."

"Uh…" Emma reached for another piece of toast, just to have an excuse to extend her breakfast.

"Halt."

"God, fine. If we talk, will you leave me alone?"

"Yes." Regina waited until Emma tossed the food back down and stood before walking to the large double doors. When the blonde stood sullenly in front of her, hidden from the curious gazes that followed them, Regina ducked her head. There were few times in her life that she felt an apology was necessary, and it irked her that Emma deserved one. "Swan, I apologize for my conduct."

"What?"

"I was careless with my words." Regina gritted her teeth. She was thorough in all things, even painfully admitting she was wrong. "Please accept my apology."

"I – uh – yeah, okay. Thanks." Emma looked utterly baffled.

"Will you join me once again for practice?"

"Uh, well – no. Thanks. But no thanks." Emma turned to walk away, but Regina placed a hand on her arm. There was no physical arrest, but Emma stopped nonetheless.

"I have since learned of your circumstances. It was uncouth of me to speak as if I knew you."

"That's not the problem, okay?"

"Then what is?"

Emma readjusted her grip on her bag. "I just can't do this, okay?"

"I require an answer, Swan. You will not break our agreement because your feelings were injured."

"Y'know? For a second there, I let myself think you actually liked me. I forgot how Slytherin you actually are. You wouldn't do something for me like that unless you needed me for your own reasons."

"What are you going on about?"

"It's pretty clear that you're using me. A nice person wouldn't have to apologize for saying that shit to me, because a nice person wouldn't have said it in the first place." Emma swallowed roughly. She'd invested too much energy into Regina, and was rapidly figuring out that the other girl was the equivalent of an emotional black hole.

"I never claimed to be nice."

"So, really – thanks for the offer, but… I don't think so."

Regina grimaced as Emma marched away and she was left standing alone. Students trickled past her, but she paid them no mind. She'd gone through the sketchbook. She'd seen the myriad versions of herself – sometimes staring straight back at her, others lounging or reading or eating, or a dozen other variations.

Emma, she realized, was someone who had taken the time to actually see her. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do with this new information, but she knew staying away wasn't an option. Not only did she need Emma to beat Gold, but there was a certain draw to the fourth year student that she couldn't resist. No longer was Emma a means to an end, but perhaps an end in and of herself.


	2. Chapter 2

Emma sipped her juice and kept her eyes down on her plate. She'd waited patiently for the holidays to arrive for the peace and quiet it brought with it – but group meals were unavoidable. Thankfully the remaining staff members weren't invasive with their questions and the other students were either huddling together in small groups, or like her: silent, alone, and desperate to get through the meal.

"Is that all you're eating?"

"Yeah." Emma didn't have to look up to recognize the sharp tone of Regina's voice. She imagined the brunette wasn't going home for the holiday simply to ruin her time. Unable to leave well enough alone, she snorted. "You're really going to eat all that? No wonder you've been looking a little chunky lately."

Regina rolled her eyes. "The extra weight is muscle, Swan."

"Sure." Emma was still sore about their conversation the week before. She'd managed to avoid Regina since then, but it seemed she had run out of luck.

"Why didn't you go home?"

"I thought you knew my situation."

"I do."

"So figure it out. Doesn't take a Ravenclaw." Emma huffed, against the idea of sharing anything personal with anyone, ever. She lifted her gaze to Regina's and cringed at the disappointed look Regina had plastered on her features. Anger Emma could deal with – was, in fact, a professional at handling. Disappointment, however, was a new punishment and Emma thrust her plate away from her. It clattered loudly in her haste to get away.

"Until later, Swan."

"Whatever." Emma called over her shoulder. Please, she begged, let mealtimes be the only time she had to deal with Mills. Her crush on the other girl was still alive and well, but it was now tempered with the thorns of their last encounter. There were too many emotions for Emma to sort through and so she did what came naturally – threw up emotional barriers and fled.

0-0-0

Mary-Margaret left the table shortly after Emma stormed away. She had watched the interaction with curious eyes, but wasn't willing to step in. Over the past few years, she and Regina had had their differences, and the resulting spats led her to think twice before engaging in any sort of discourse. Besides, she reasoned, the blonde girl looked perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

Still, it settled wrong in her stomach. She hated watching someone get bullied, and Regina appeared to be the aggressor. The chilling glare directed at her kept her silent and forced her to abandon her breakfast. It wasn't because of Regina, she told herself. She had important business to attend to.

She padded down the hallway and then took the stairs two at a time up to the owlery. At home amongst the quiet hoots and the ruffling feathers, she drew a thin roll of parchment from her sleeve and read through it once more.

_Dear James,_

_It's only been three days but I already miss you! It's too bad I couldn't go to France with you and your family. The castle is so quiet without you. I don't know what I'm going to do with all my free time. Perhaps I'll get started on my Potions essay. I can just hear you now, telling me I should go outside and have a snowball fight with the other students – but you know me. I'd probably catch a cold._

_I can't wait to hear from you!_

_Love,_

_Mary_

She selected one of the barn owls and preened his feathers fondly. He ran his beak along her fingers, prompting her to pull a small piece of bacon from her pocket. As he snapped it up, she fastened the parchment to his ankle and rubbed his head. Food devoured, he fluttered to the window and soared into the clear winter sky.

James was a horrible letter writer, so she tried not to hope too keenly for a quick response. If anything, she'd receive two sentences at the end of next week. Still, she'd treasure the few words he could come up with. It was better than nothing.

0-0-0

Emma kicked her shoes off and pulled her knees to her chest. The chairs in the library were overstuffed and too comfortable. Sitting in one felt like sinking into a cloud. While there was plenty she could be doing for class, her purpose in being there was entirely to avoid every other person at Hogwarts. After all, it was barely the first week of vacation. Nobody would be in the library, except the librarian – and that was only because she had to be there.

She paged through the book she brought with her and found where she left off. Matilda Hoppers was a brilliant coach but Effective Quidditch Strategies was a dreadfully dull read. Even the pictures detailing maneuvers were boring to watch – but Emma was determined to increase her game play without Regina's help.

So she focused her eyes on the words. Every time her mind wandered, she remembered Regina's sneer and how badly her body hurt after that first brutal practice and her eyes fixed once more on proper broom maintenance. After an hour of tedious studying, she finally let herself toss the book aside and examine the advertisements for the newest models of the hottest brooms that she'd clipped out of the Daily Prophet.

She traced her finger along the images and sighed. The Lightning Strike came out three weeks prior and everyone said it was the quickest broom since the Firebolt and handled so well that every professional team was dying to get at least seven. She daydreamed for a few minutes about flying circles around Regina.

Maybe she couldn't afford the top of the line, but there were other options. She browsed the quick sale brooms – mostly models from several years ago that stores were eager to foist off on more frugal fliers in order to get new products in. The price tags made her frown deepen and she slumped into the chair. She'd just have to get good enough that it didn't matter she was riding the flying equivalent of a lame horse.

0-0-0

Regina rubbed the nearest cauldron until it sparkled. She didn't want to know what was coated along the bottom – whatever it was, it was white and sticky – and she wanted to scour the portion of her hand that brushed it with boiling water and acid. Normally she was disdainful of detention because she was usually told to grade papers. She was a bright girl and most professors preferred to use her brain instead of her body.

This sort of work was beneath her. She moved to the next cauldron and began listing all the different ways she could inflict pain on Gold. This finally brought a smile to her face and distracted her from the dull ache in her palms.

"Ms. Mills?"

"Yes, Professor?" She brightened her grin.

"I think that's enough for tonight."

Oh thank goodness. She stood, ignoring the shot of pain that raced down her spine. "Thank you, Professor."

"I hate to see any student serving detention over the holidays." He clapped her cheerily on the shoulders. "Let's say you've served your time, hm?"

"Thank you." Regina repeated. It was meaningless gratitude. He was releasing her from a punishment that she hadn't deserved in the first place. Still, she kept her chipper mien until she was in the hallway.

0-0-0

Emma was deep in thought when she careened into Mary-Margaret in front of the kitchens. The brunette toppled to the ground with a quiet oof and Emma bent quickly to help her up.

"Hello!"

"Uh, hi."

Mary-Margaret brushed herself off. "I'm Mary-Margaret Blanchard."

"Emma Swan."

"You were the one bickering with Mills this morning!"

Emma's cheeks flooded with color. "It wasn't bickering."

"It rarely is with Mills." Mary-Margaret sighed. "I'm sure she's a lovely person…"

"But?" Despite Regina's possible shortcomings, Emma felt a little miffed that this nobody was daring to question Regina's perfection.

"But she's no doubt facing her own troubles."

"Oh."

"You may want to avoid her in the future."

"That was the plan." Emma fiddled with her tie. "So, uh, why're you going to the kitchens?"

"I didn't eat well this morning."

"Yeah, me neither."

"Want to eat with me?"

So much for solitude, Emma thought. Blanchard seemed harmless, though, so she nodded stiffly. Perhaps, with Blanchard at her side, Regina would be put-off of approaching her.

0-0-0

Emma's Mary-Margaret-Shield worked for less than a day. By lunchtime the following day Regina had reinserted herself into Emma's life. Emma didn't regret the time spent with Blanchard – the smaller woman was kind and sweetly funny – so she wasn't upset that her oh-so-clever plan had failed. She instead directed her souring attitude at the cause of her misery.

"Mills, why are you here?"

Regina slid a paper toward her. "You dropped this."

Emma snatched the Daily Prophet clipping from the table. "Geeze, are you stalking me?"

"It's no mystery who would be looking at broom prices in a nearly empty castle." Regina drawled. "Finally considering trading up?"

"No. I was interested in the stuff on the back." Emma's cheeks reddened when Regina cocked one eyebrow.

"Half an article about the Pixie problem in Belgium?"

"It was the better half." Emma snapped. "For an essay."

"Uh-huh."

"God, just shut up."

"Are you getting a new broom?"

"No."

"Pity."

"You don't need a good broom to be a good player." Emma unwittingly fell straight into Regina's trap.

"Is that so?" Regina chuckled humorlessly. "Then you'll have to indulge me in a little competition."

"Uh…"

"The broom truly makes the player. But perhaps I'm wrong."

"You are."

"Prove it." Regina leaned closer. "Compete against me."

"Like – now?"

The temptation to roll her eyes was only growing, but Regina tamped her derision down. This was going well. At this rate, Emma would be spending time with her again sooner than expected. "Are you opposed?"

"Well… it's sorta snowing…"

"Afraid of the cold?"

"No." Emma's lips clenched together and her jaw tightened. "Who'll ref?"

"Your little friend will do."

Mary-Margaret squeaked. She'd been doing her best to melt into her seat. "I don't know much about quidditch."

"Your boy toy is a keeper."

"I know it's good when he blocks the red ball."

"You weren't raised by Muggles, Blanchard." Regina said. "Your ignorance is entirely unappealing."

"Stop it." Emma cut back in. "You want to compete? Fine. Get your broom. We'll meet you on the pitch."

"Excellent."

"Emma!"

"It'll be fine, Mary." Emma soothed. She watched Regina's receding form and wondered if her words were true or hopeless optimism.

Mary-Margaret sighed. "I'll need at least three coats."

"Weren't you born in the middle of a blizzard?" Emma couldn't concentrate on their conversation, and just let her lips move on their own. She was too focused on figuring out how exactly Regina manipulated her into this. It was just too easy to forget herself when faced with Regina's pointed wit and alluring smirk.


	3. Chapter 3

Emma mounted her broom and kicked into the air. While she waited for Regina to follow suit, she ran through a few warm ups – darting from one end of the pitch to the other, spiraling up and down, and tossing the quaffle to herself. Her fingers were a little numb, but she whispered a warming spell to stay nimble.

Regina watched her carefully, taking time to pull on a pair of fleece lined flying gloves. They were a present from Father, given to her when Mother wasn't looking. Had Mother seen, she would have been enraged – Regina had done nothing to earn such a lavish gift and so shouldn't possess them. When she wore them, though, it was a reminder that he loved her, and that was almost better than the heat they provided.

"Are we going to do this?"

Instead of answering directly, Regina turned to Mary-Margaret. "Your job is simple. You will determine if a goal has been scored, and keep track of the points."

"So it just has to go through one of the big hoops right?"

The urge to scoff was growing, but Regina gritted her teeth and nodded. "We will take turns flying from one end of the pitch to the other and attempting to score on the other. Swan will be keeper first."

"I think I get it." Mary-Margaret eyed the hoops. "I don't need to fly, do I?"

"Afraid of heights?"

"No."

"Of course. Very well, you will watch from the stands."

Leaving Mary-Margaret to travel up to a better vantage point, Regina flew alongside Emma and drew even. She explained the rules as quickly as possible, speaking loudly over the wind. If she wasn't mistaken, she noticed Emma watching her lips with keen interest – but she wrote it off as Emma's attempt at understanding when the breeze swept her words away.

"First to five?"

"Very well." Regina floated to the hoops and waited patiently for Emma to glide around the opposite side.

Emma gripped the quaffle tightly before realizing that this would only hinder her ability to score. She forced herself to toss the ball back and forth a few times before settling forward on her broom and zooming towards Regina. When Regina dove right, she suddenly whipped the quaffle left – but Regina's broom handled a lot better than hers did. What seemed like a perfect shot was blocked efficiently.

Regina clutched the quaffle under one arm. "Ready to give up?"

"Never."

"Take your position." Regina snapped, though she was far from irritated. Emma showed promise and she'd almost missed the quaffle. It wouldn't do, however, to let Emma know how impressed she was.

Emma caught her shot, and they volleyed back and forth for another ten minutes before Emma missed the first goal. From there, Regina's confidence increased tenfold, and so did Emma's determination. She bristled at the far end of the pitch. Regina would be unbearable if she didn't score soon, Emma determined.

Her strategy was to be unpredictable – Regina could quickly respond to her, and could see where she was aiming. But if she could look at one hoop and throw at another – she'd have a chance. With a deep breath, she leaned forward. Approximately ten feet from the hoops, she jerked up into the sky, then dove in rapid succession. Regina tracked her and dove for the lower hoop, but she threw for the highest.

"One to Emma!" Mary-Margaret cheered.

The celebration halted at Regina's terse glare. "That's one to one. My turn."

"Yeah, good luck." Emma felt surer of herself now – and her cockiness led to a crooked smile that made Regina oddly nervous.

0-0-0

"You did your best." Mary-Margaret offered. Emma thumbed through a magazine and tried not to frown. She failed spectacularly and Mary-Margaret sighed. "You nearly won."

"Nearly."

"She's very good."

"Very."

"Come on. Cheer up."

Emma made a large display out of turning the page before holding it up to her face once again. "I lost."

"She's older than you."

"Only a year."

"She grew up in a magical family."

"So did I."

Mary-Margaret's face went through a series of expressions – from confused to enlightened, and finally curious. "I didn't know that."

"Nobody really does. I'd prefer people thought of me as a mudblood."

"You're from a pureblood family?"

"Well, nobody knows." Emma gazed at an article about bezoars without actually reading. "But that's a lot of pressure, isn't it? All the purebloods have so much to live up to. My current foster family is – well, a witch and a squib. So yeah, I grew up around magic. She doesn't have that advantage."

"Still…"

"There's no excuse."

"Emma…"

"The fact is she's better than me. But it won't be that way for long."

"Oh?"

"I'm saving up for a better broom – helping out in Potions by gathering stuff from the Forest. The professor gives me a few Galleons a week for that. I can get a better broom for about two hundred, if I find someone willing to sell cheap. It might take a while, but – I can do it."

"I'd like to help."

"No, thanks." Emma returned to her magazine, her interest in the conversation waning.

"It's nothing, Emma. I'll write my father-"

"No thank you."

"Let me help you."

"I don't need help." Emma got the feeling that Blanchard was treated like a princess. If she wanted something, Daddy Deep Pockets immediately got it for her. It was a lifestyle which Emma didn't understand – Mary-Margaret couldn't value something that wasn't properly earned and so easily replaced.

"Okay. I didn't mean…" She trailed off, unsure of what exactly had set Emma off. "I'll leave you alone so you can read now. I'm sorry."

Emma thought to call after her and explain, but there was just too much to say and no way to express it to someone who had just waltzed into her life a few days prior.

0-0-0

Nights in the castle during the holiday were lonely. When sleep wouldn't come, Emma abandoned her bed in favor of the common room – but with nobody around, it was almost worse. She sat by the fireplace and stared up at the potted plants decorated almost every available surface. She had lost to Regina Mills. She closed her eyes.

Losing meant admitting that money meant more than hard work. Privilege dominated effort. Emma would always lose to the Regina Mills's of the world. As a child her foster parents had impressed this upon her, but she'd slowly grown to think that she could beat the system if she just tried her hardest. She'd made sure she was the fastest runner of all the seven year olds in the neighborhood, even in her five-year-old sneakers that were held together with a thin layer of magic and a lot of tape.

The optimism of her youth was wearing away rapidly. As long as she had a loaner broom, she'd never win.

Unable to sit still any longer, she stood and marched to the exit. It was dangerous to break curfew, but she hoped the rules would be somewhat relaxed as it was the holidays. She stepped into the hallway, let her eyes adjust to the dark, and then set off at a lugubrious pace. Perhaps a long stroll would exhaust her enough for sleep.

0-0-0

Victory hadn't felt quite right to Regina, who sat in a dark corner of the castle with her eyes on the sprawling front lawn. Though initially she'd hoped to manipulate Emma into working with her again, the final result seemed to be a complete crushing of the other girl's spirits. This simply would not do – because, she hurried on to justify, she needed Emma to beat Gold and not because she had some sort of feelings for the Hufflepuff.

Yet every time she blinked she saw Emma's crestfallen expression as the quaffle slipped past her fingers. She had nothing to apologize for, but that's all she wanted to do. It was close – four goals to Regina's winning five – but Emma looked as though she'd been creamed zero to five.

"This isn't my problem." She whispered to herself. "Swan can feel as she likes. If she's weak enough to simply let me destroy her, perhaps she deserves it."

This was utterly ridiculous. If she was to get any sleep that night, she'd have to confront Emma about the matter and clear the air. This was a misunderstanding, she was sure, and one conversation could have the blonde feeling much better about everything.

Before she could head for the kitchens, and subsequently the Hufflepuff basement, there was a clatter about twenty feet ahead of her – like someone accidently brushing against a suit of armor. She pressed back into the shadows, hoping that this wasn't some professor patrolling for students. When Emma came stumbling into the moonlight, she let out a relieved sigh.

"Who's there?" Emma whispered. Her eyes narrowed on Regina's hiding spot.

"You couldn't sleep either?"

"Mills." Emma spat. "You're really determined to make me miserable, aren't you?"

"Don't be silly."

"Wasn't winning enough? Now you have to rub it in?"

"Quite the contrary." Regina eyed Emma's defensive posture. "You performed admirably. I think with a few more practices, you could have beaten me."

"Sure."

"Swan, I'm much too tired to deal with your unique brand of self-loathing. It's the middle of the night and we're both out of bed past curfew. Perhaps we can continue this conversation at a time when there is no threat of trouble?"

"This some sort of trick?"

"If it was, would I tell you?"

"Hm."

"I'll be out by the lake tomorrow after breakfast. Join me, if the urge strikes you."

"Yeah, okay." Emma snorted. Like that would happen.

0-0-0

"You look tired." Mary-Margaret handed Emma a cup of juice.

"Didn't sleep much last night."

"Worried?"

"Distracted." Emma invented. "I have three feet due the week after classes start again in the History of Magic, and I've been putting it off too long now."

"Oh." It was clear from the slighter woman's tone that Emma's lie was unbelievable.

Emma felt no need to elaborate, though. "So there's that."

"Is there any reason Mills is watching you?"

Emma's eyes darted across the table to where Regina was indeed eyeing her. "I have no idea."

Honestly, the attention was almost flattering. Had it occurred before their practices began, Emma would have been fawning, drooling, and working herself into an excited frenzy. Now, though, she tried to quell the good feelings that sprang up in her chest at the intense gaze.

"She seems – interested."

"She wants me to meet her after breakfast."

"Are you going to go?"

"Of course not."

"You should." Mary-Margaret chided.

"I thought you two were like super rivals or something. Why do you want me hanging around her?"

"We don't get along, no. But… as much as it pains me, liking me is not totally determinative of a person's worth. Maybe all she needs is a chance."

"You're unbearable, you know that?"

Mary-Margaret laughed like the tinkling of wind chimes. "And you're particularly grouchy this morning."

"Hmph." Emma poked her breakfast moodily. Maybe she would go – simply to give Regina a piece of her mind.


	4. Chapter 4

Emma pulled her cloak tighter as a small breeze whipped across the lake, up the front lawn, and past her ears. She hesitated a moment by the castle wall – she could easily step back inside and warm herself. But as her eyes scanned the horizon and spotted a dark lonely figure at the edge of the nearly frozen water, she began her trip through the thin layer of snow.

Halfway across the field, she stopped. She could see Regina more clearly now, silhouetted against the bright blue sky – the brunette's hair was waving gently in the wind and the image made Emma yearn for her sketch book. It didn't matter how poorly Regina treated her – she was enraptured by the other girl, and that didn't seem to change.

Feeling the bite of the cold more keenly, she hurried the rest of the distance. Regina turned at the sound of snow crunching under foot. The beatific smile that was on her lips softened into something more genuine. Emma wondered if she'd imagined it.

"You came."

Emma kicked at the frost. "You beat me, fair and square."

"I'd like to continue practicing with you."

Emma shoved her hands under her arms to keep her fingers warm. "You've never really told me – why are you so insistent on torturing me? I mean, helping me get better?"

Regina's lips quirked up against her will. "Hufflepuff's first match of the coming year—"

"Ravenclaw." Emma supplied.

"Yes. I have a bit of a – vendetta – against the captain of that team. I need him to lose, and you will help me accomplish that."

"So that's it? That's the only reason you were like, hm, better go bother that Swan girl that I've never even talked to before in my entire life."

"Something like that."

"Seriously?"

"I've seen you play before. You lack precision and refined skill, but it's obvious you are at home in the air."

"Thanks, I think."

"It was intended as a compliment."

Emma brought her hands in front of her face and puffed hot breath against them. "I like the cold and all, but any reason you wanted to meet by the lake?"

Regina pulled her gloves out of her pocket and stared at them. She offered them to Emma, who also began to stare at them. "They'll keep you warm."

Unsure of what was happening, or why, Emma accepted the offering and pulled the gloves over her fingers. Almost immediately her hands were warmed – her cheeks heated in response to Regina's small kindness.

"Thank you."

"Think nothing of it." That was what Regina was trying to do. Those were her gloves, part of her was shrieking. Father had picked them out especially for her. That part was overruled when she saw the dusting of a blush over Emma's cheeks. In a way, she was protecting the other girl, and that thought made her flush as well.

"Okay."

"So will you let me help you?"

"Can we not talk about Quidditch?" Emma was in too much of a good mood now for discussions that would ultimately, undoubtedly lead to an argument between them. "Just for now?"

"What do you suggest?"

"Will you get angry at me if I ask you a question?"

Though it set her on edge, she nodded tersely. "Ask what you want. I can't promise I'll answer."

"Why didn't you go home? Everyone knows that I have nowhere to go, so that's why I'm here – but you're from a family that cares about you, right? So why are you here?"

"I don't think I want to answer that."

Emma gazed at the elegant gloves that probably cost more than her entire wardrobe. "My dad didn't want me to come to Hogwarts in the first place. He tolerated my mother's magic, but he always hoped I wouldn't have any. As soon as I started making things levitate, he pretty much stopped talking to me – except to punish me, I guess. Maybe if I were really his kid, things would be different. Mom couldn't do anything to protect me without his going off on how she was taking the side of some snot nosed brat who wasn't even hers over her own husband. She kept him from doing anything more than smacking me around a bit, but the worst of it were the words. Those did more damage, I think. A bruise heals in a week or two – but what he said to me… I don't think I'll forget that ever."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Mary-Margaret told me I should give you a chance."

"She-"

"Don't say anything bad, Mills." Emma nudged her shoulder against Regina's. "She got me out here, didn't she? So – what do you say? Take a chance on me?"

"I'm not used to airing my family's affairs." Regina grasped Emma's gloved hand between her own. "But perhaps we'll get there."

"I can wait." Emma wasn't sure her heart could be beating any faster. "Would you mind, maybe, being a little nicer? If we were to practice again?"

"Nice doesn't win matches."

"No, but it does make me work harder."

"Very well."

"We'll make sure Ravenclaw goes down." Emma promised.

"I'm sure." Regina had yet to relinquish her grip, and found that she wanted nothing more than to stand outside in the snow with their hands linked until the end of time. Or, she amended, until one of them was too cold and they were forced inside. She didn't want to think about that, though, as going inside might signal the end of whatever was building between them out where nobody could see them or hear them talk.

"What is this?" Emma squeezed their joint hands.

Regina licked her lips. "A secret."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I."

0-0-0

Mary-Margaret had waited to open the letter until she was alone in her dorm. It was thicker than she expected, which was more exciting than the knowledge that it was from her boyfriend and his family. It seemed he'd finally thought of something to say to her beyond "I'm doing good. Can't wait to see you! Love, James."

She broke the seal and pulled out three pieces of parchment. The first had James's messy scrawl. The other two were covered in elegant cursive. She set those aside in favor of the short missive from her beloved.

_MM –_

_I'm doing good. Can't wait to see you!_

_Love,_  
_J_

Her lower lip trembled. He was always short and to the point – blunt and honest, even when he ought to be tactful. Yet the hope that perhaps he'd written her a love letter had confused her expectations. She should have realized, she thought as she tossed the letter aside, that he hadn't changed in the few short weeks since they parted.

_Dear Mary,_

_I know this might be odd – my sending a letter with my brother's – but I feel that we've spent enough time together over the past year that I can safely call you friend. Do you feel differently? In any event, this letter is written and you're reading it – I hope it finds you well and in good spirits._

_France is quite beautiful in the winter, though I'm sure Hogwarts is as well. Perhaps when I get back we can discuss at length our respective experiences. I will say only this: There is no place quite like home, but Hogwarts is close – and France is not too far behind. I feel an awful dunce, though. James speaks such beautiful French and I sound like a confused child._

_I hope it wasn't out of line, but I saw a scarf in a boutique in Nice yesterday that was calling your name. Think of it as a Christmas present – but I'd like to give it to you in person – if you're not opposed, that is. It's incredibly soft and matches the color of your lips._

She smiled at the sudden splotch of ink next to his words. He had, she imagined, embarrassed himself. He was a gentle soul, and much more open with his emotions than his twin. On more than one occasion she'd wondered what it would be like to date him rather than James – but nothing good came of thoughts like that. He would never make an overt gesture while she was dating James, even if he might feel strongly for her – as she imagined he did.

The letter drabbled on about the various magical creatures he had encountered, focused momentarily on a small spat he'd gotten into with James about the Harpies and their chances at the World Cup, and eventually came back around to wishing her well.

_James speaks of you often, and it at times feels as if you are here with us. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder – I fear this may be impossible, as I am already incredibly fond of you. If you have the time, we would both very much enjoy another letter._

_All the best,_

_David_

This letter she folded up and tucked into her pocket. She'd respond later that evening, when she had a moment – to both of them, although it was tempting to only spend her time on David.

0-0-0

Regina returned to the dungeon, her nose frozen but her heart light. Emma had eventually agreed to more practices together, as long as Regina could be reasonably nicer. It was certainly to beat Gold, but it was also an excuse to be in close contact with the only person in recent years who had begun to wriggle behind her defenses.

She stopped by the fire to warm her hands and couldn't stop the smile that spread over her lips. Though her exile to Hogwarts began as a punishment, it had turned into a wonderful opportunity. If her peers had been lingering about, she doubted she would have been bold enough to approach Swan in a social capacity.

"Regina." The hearth exploded and when the flames receded, the image of her mother's face flickered among them.

"Mother." She frowned. "How did you know I'd be here?"

"I have my sources." Cora snapped. "These sources tell me you're consorting with those below you."

"That's not true."

"Where are your gloves?"

Regina tucked her hands into her pockets. She should have realized that her mother was paying a professor to keep an eye on her. The woman who taught Defense Against the Dark Arts had been eyeing her rather closely that morning.

"I left them in my room."

"So your relationship with this girl…"

"Is nothing. She's nothing to me." The lies felt heavy on her tongue, but she forced them out.

"You've been disappointing me lately, Regina. This behavior cannot continue."

"It won't, Mother. I promise."

"Tell me about your week."

This was safer territory, and Regina let her tongue loose. All the while, though, her thoughts were on Emma.


	5. Chapter 5

"You can do this, Swan." Regina stood in front of her blonde friend, hands clutching Emma's shoulders. Her face was deadly serious – it wasn't just a match. This was what they'd spent all holiday break practicing for, and Regina was counting on Emma's success.

"I know I can." Emma puffed her chest out. The air was cold, but she was wearing Regina's gloves. She had this.

"Just keep your movements tight –"

"And my focus forward." Emma rolled her eyes. "I could so beat you if we had our competition again."

"Don't be cocky." Regina snapped. "You know what this means to me."

At once Emma sobered. "Hey, I do know. I'll play my hardest and we'll win."

Regina cleared her throat, embarrassed that she'd once again let her emotions get the better of her. "I've seen what you're capable of. Don't get distracted."

"I know, I know!" Emma darted forward impulsively and pressed her lips to Regina's. It had gone unspoken during the last week of their practice that there was something building between them – from subtle glances, to tiny touches – but neither was bold enough to bring it up. When she drew back, she found Regina's eyes closed tightly. She smiled nervously. "For luck."

"Indeed…"

"I'm sorry?"

"Don't be." Regina's eyes fluttered open. "I'm heading to the stands."

"Stay focused." Emma saluted sloppily. "Got it. I'll give you a good show."

0-0-0

The pep talk Emma received from the captain was less invigorating. He blathered on about keeping it a clean game. She had no interest in what he said and leaned on her broom – she wondered what Regina would do when Hufflepuff won. There might be a reward involved, if Emma played particularly well.

She hummed under her breath and let her imagination trickle away. Regina would run up after the game, even with the masses of enthusiastic Hufflepuffs gathered around. They'd make eye contact through the crowd and it would feel suddenly like magnets were attached to their lips – opposites would attract and they'd be kissing right there in front of everyone.

"Swan?"

She snapped to attention. "Huh?"

"You've been working hard. Did you have any advice?"

"Uh, stay focused guys. They're quick and they think fast, but we're determined. We just have to keep our eyes on the prize."

The captain nodded firmly. "We're here to win, people."

Though she cared about the team's standings, Emma's win would be for Regina. She tossed her broom over one shoulder and strolled out to the field.

0-0-0

Regina crossed the pitch, deep in thought. She had been as careful as she could over the break and very few people knew about her private training sessions. Cora had, however, received word on two separate occasions. Though her mother was temporarily pacified by Regina's claims that her association with the Hufflepuff was about claiming a victory against an enemy, Cora was becoming more and more insistent that the relationship end.

Yet with every passing day, Regina was afraid of the inevitable schism she would have to create. Emma had somehow crept into her consciousness – she often wondered what the blonde would say in a given situation, or what Emma might think. Her dependence on Emma's steady smile was larger than she was prepared to deal with.

"Mills."

She narrowed her eyes. "Gold. Shouldn't you be with your team?"

He tutted. "My team is prepped and ready. I came to make sure there would be no interference from interested parties."

A snarl overtook her lips. "I'm here to watch."

"Your interference has already occurred, has it not?" He leaned closer, his hot breath attacking her cold cheeks. "You trained that chaser."

"There's nothing in the rules against it." She lifted her head higher. "She's a promising athlete. It seemed like a wonderful act of charity to train those born without my natural talent."

He giggled and the sound was grating. "Not even you can save Hufflepuff, Mills. But good try. I think by the end of the match, you'll find yourself quite disappointed."

"I'm sure."

"Do keep your eye on the quaffle. It shouldn't be hard – just look for Ravenclaw."

She snorted. "If you say so."

"I do…" His voice took on a rather threatening tone. "As long as you don't meddle further…"

She stuck her nose into the air and stalked away. She had no interest in listening to his baseless claims.

0-0-0

At the blow of the whistle Emma kicked into the air and snatched at the red ball. She nearly knocked heads with one of the Ravenclaw chasers. He growled as she darted forward – he had a faster broom, but she had worked out several strategies for maintaining control of the quaffle. When he swung in front of her, she threw a lateral pass to a teammate and swerved to avoid smashing into him.

Her teammate had a newer broom and made it half way down the pitch before tossing the quaffle back into her hands. She dove down and immediately pulled back up. She rocketed up into the air and pulled around the startled members of Ravenclaw's team. Confidence flushed through her. She was going to win this for Hufflepuff – for Regina.

Suddenly, though, a bludger smashed into her back and sent her into a downward spiral. The quaffle flew from her fingers. She managed to save herself from an unfortunate meeting with the ground, but Ravenclaw had already made it down the pitch. A chaser threw at the middle goal post, but Humbert smacked it away just in time. A roar went up in the stands.

Emma twisted to test the damage to her back. Satisfied that she was still functioning, she zipped back towards the action. She flew past Gold, who sat motionless on his broom at mid-field. He grinned at her.

"Better keep your mind in the game. Would hate for your girlfriend to be disappointed."

"She's not my girlfriend!"

The crowd jeered and Emma's attention swiveled back up. Humbert was pawing at his eyes, which meant a goal had been scored. She twisted back to Gold, who merely grinned at her. She gave him a rude gesture before returning to her team.

Every time she got her fingers on the quaffle, a bludger would slam against her ribs, hands, or head. She felt battered and silly by the time Gold finally launched into the air. He took a lazy lap around the pitch, but it was clear he was biding his time. The Hufflepuff seeker went zooming after the snitch, desperate to rescue their win, but Gold leaned forward almost nonchalantly. A bludger smashed the other seeker's broom and Gold's fingers wrapped around the tiny, fluttering ball.

Emma tested one of her teeth with her tongue. It had definitely been knocked loose – and she was dreading looking at the bruises later that undoubtedly littered her body. What hurt worse, though, was the thought of Regina's disappointed face. Emma had worked so hard – and for nothing. Ravenclaw had won by an extraordinary lead.

0-0-0

Emma spent the rest of the evening in the hospital wing. It didn't take long to re-root her teeth, but the medi-witch was worried about a possible concussion. To avoid complications, she put Emma to bed and made it clear the blonde was not to move. Before Emma could go too crazy, Mary-Margaret stepped into the hospital bay with a sad smile.

"You played well."

"We lost.

"But you should have seen yourself!"

"I did." Emma huffed. "I sucked."

"You can be a fantastic chaser, Emma, but the ones with the big clubs-"

"The beaters."

"If they're not doing their jobs right, you can't do yours."

Emma rolled onto her side, unable to look at Mary-Margaret or face the optimism. "I sucked."

"Emma…"

"This was the one thing I was supposed to do. I had to win this for Mills." Emma felt a wave of nausea rising in her, though whether it was from her head injury, or her self-loathing, she wasn't sure.

"There'll be other games."

"They won't mean nearly as much."

Mary-Margaret sighed and took Emma's hand. "She knows you did your best."

"She hasn't come to see me."

"It took me this long to get up here. Just wait, Emma. She'll be up here, and she'll tell you the same thing. "

"Yeah, maybe."

"James said your tactics were impressive." Mary-Margaret tried again. "That he was going to talk to his chasers about trying some of it out."

"Whoopdidoo."

"Would you like me to leave?"

Emma swallowed past the growing lump in her throat. She didn't want to be alone, but Mary-Margaret, despite good intentions, was only making her feel worse. "I should probably get some sleep, y'know? They think I might have some sort of brain injury. I'd hate to make myself stupider."

"You're not stupid." Mary-Margaret's counterarguments were weakening and she sighed. "I'll come by tomorrow, if that's okay?"

"I hope I'm out of here by then." Emma flopped back against her pillows. "Fingers crossed, right?"

Mary-Margaret hesitated before leaving. "She'll come by, I just know it."

"Thanks for the support."

0-0-0

"Took you long enough in there."

Mary-Margaret latched onto James's extended arm. "She got knocked around pretty badly."

"It was a great strategy. Gold's an impressive tactician."

She frowned. "But Emma could have been seriously hurt."

"They keep an eye on things." He waved his hand dismissively. "It wouldn't have been that bad. Nobody's died in years."

"Nobody should die at all."

"Don't worry about it." He looked down at her. "My first game of the new year is next year. I'm glad you're taking such an interest in the sport. You'll be there to cheer me on, right?"

She nodded, though her eyes were trained on the ground. Her interest in the violent sport was waning rather than flourishing. The bruises, even after treatment, made Emma look like the victim of abuse rather than a participant in a school sport. Mary-Margaret was a gentle soul, and the thought of such serious harm made her cringe.

"Of course."

"It's a pity Hufflepuff lost." He grimaced.

Thinking he was finally on her side, Mary-Margaret brightened. "Emma is a fantastic chaser, right?"

"She's sub-par with that broom." He scoffed. "This just means we'll be facing Ravenclaw down the line, and they're very aggressive this year. It'll make them harder to deal with. We'll have to take their beater strategy into account while we practice. I'd hate for one of us to get battered as much as your friend."

It was clear to her that he didn't actually care about Emma, or the match, beyond what it meant for Gryffindor. She walked beside him and responded to his chatter with the appropriate murmurings, but she let herself wonder if David would have cared about Emma, or if the shy man even liked quidditch.


	6. Chapter 6

"Careful with his head."

David looked up from the small furry insect in his hands and smiled when he met Mary-Margaret's eyes. "To be honest, I'm not even sure if it's alive."

She knelt beside him. "Can I?"

"Sure." He eased the Glumbumble into her hands. "I have to say, when we started this course, I thought we'd be caring for bigger animals."

"He's just as important as the big, showy creatures." She corrected. "Even if he is a little dangerous."

"Just don't eat his treacle."

"Exactly."

"I think it's admirable that you feel so strongly for even the smallest of creatures." Feeling brave, he put his hand on her wrist. When she didn't knock him away, his smile widened. "But you have to admit, it'd be cooler if we were learning to tame dragons."

"Be glad it's just a Glumbumble. We could be doing the section on Jarveys."

He chuckled, and she took a moment to admire how handsome he was when he was enjoying himself. Unlike his brother, his smile had a natural curve to it and his eyes were gentle. "You're right. I can't say I'm a big fan of regular sized ferrets, let alone overgrown ones."

"Hey! My two favorite people!" James threw his arms around their shoulders, taking both of them by surprise. David immediately withdrew his hand and his smile faded.

"Watch out." Mary-Margaret snapped. "You could have hurt him."

"I'm okay."

"Not you, David. The Glumbumble."

David flushed. "Oh, yeah. Right. He's delicate, James."

James shrugged. "No harm done. Mary, are we still on for tonight?"

She handed the furry insect back to David and examined James's face. It lacked the soft warmth of David's demeanor, but was instead ruggedly handsome. He exuded a confidence that drew her in and she forgot for a moment that he at times treated her like an accessory. He wasn't always thoughtless, she determined, and he could be so charming.

"I'm not sure we should be out after hours."

"Come on." He leaned in close so their noses brushed. "I thought you were adventurous."

"There are rules for a reason."

"Live a little." He goaded.

"She said no, James."

Mary sent a grateful look at her would-be hero but shook her head. "It's alright. You're right. We've never been caught before."

"And it's romantic." James reminded her. "It was your idea in the first place."

"Alright."

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips and slapped her rear when she bent low to gather her supplies. The hour was drawing to a close and she would have just enough time to finish her reading for Potions if she hurried to the Tower. At the gentle smack she grimaced, but twisted so he couldn't see. His idea of what constituted an appropriate display of affection while in public was vastly different than hers, but they'd already talked about this. It was how he showed his love, he explained, and nobody really cared. Or, he wondered loudly, was she a prude?

David watched the exchange with disgust building in his chest. His brother was a decent man, he thought, but completely oblivious. David wasn't sure how James had wooed such a wonderful girl as Mary-Margaret, but the jealousy often was cause for bouts of insomnia.

"You shouldn't do that. She doesn't like it."

James clapped David on the shoulder. "She knows I'm a brash person, Davie. Go big or go home – right?"

While David embodied the quiet loyalty of their house, James was the poster child for bravado and the incessant need to show off. The difference in personality often allowed James to railroad him into clearly awful ideas, but David wasn't willing to let this particular issue go.

"You ought to respect her."

"Davie, I love you like a brother, but you just gotta butt out of this one. I already talked to her about it. She says she's cool with it, so that's that."

"That's what she says, but it's not how she looks." David responded. He wished his voice was as full of confidence as James's, but instead it always came out quiet and steady. When they were children, he was prone to whispering and mumbling – he was sure people were only interested in the good brother, the one who brought home trophies and attracted attention. It wasn't until Mary-Margaret came into their lives that David resented being in the shadows.

"I can only go by what she says. Don't worry about it. If she doesn't like it, she'll say something about it. Until then, I've got a yes and I'm keeping it."

David stroked the Grumbumble once more before returning it to its cage. "You're right."

"Look, if you're concerned about it, I'll ask her tonight. Okay? And if she's really not down with it, I'll stop."

"Thank you."

"She's lucky to have you around. How many girls have such a fabulous best friend?"

David allowed James to sock his shoulder. "I'm sure plenty do."

"Well, none are as lucky as her. She's got me for the important stuff, and you for everything else. What more could she want?"

Everything in one person, David wanted to argue. He could offer her love and support in spades – James had the emotional depth of a teaspoon, and he was the Mariana Trench. Still, he knew better than to intrude on a private relationship. As long as Mary was happy, he would remain quiet.

0-0-0

Emma tossed a ball of parchment at Mary-Margaret's head – it tapped the brunette's forehead and bounced into the woman's lap. Rolling her eyes, Mary shifted her attention from her book to Emma's disgruntled expression.

"What's wrong now?"

"We've been reading for hours."

"One hour. Singular."

Emma shrugged. "Haven't you learned enough?"

"There's no such thing as enough, Emma."

"I won't argue with you." Emma sniggered. "But I will disagree."

"Why don't you go to practice? I know they're struggling without you."

Emma's smile folded up immediately. "No, that's okay."

"You know what they say about falling off your broom-"

"I didn't fall off my broom." Emma snapped. She immediately regretted her tone, however, as Mary reacted as if slapped. She sighed and softened her voice. "I was beaten into the ground. So forgive me for not wanting to relive that awful day for a little while."

"I'm sorry."

"It's whatever."

"Emma…"

"I'm serious. I'll go back next week or something. Just not now. Not when…" Emma cleared her throat. "Not when I still ache a bit, y'know?"

"Not when Mills hasn't spoken to you?"

"That has nothing to do with it."

"Okay."

"Ugh, can't you just leave it alone?"

"Please don't raise your voice at me."

Emma stared at the ground. "Sorry. I'll let you read."

"I wanted to ask you something."

"Go for it."

"I know you don't want a broom from me, but-"

"Whoa, stop right there." Emma reached out and pressed her hand to Mary's mouth. "The answer you're going to get is no. Negative. All signs point to never in a million years. Save your breath."

Mary pulled Emma's hand from her mouth and frowned tersely. "Just hear me out."

"Fine. But just know – my mind doesn't change very much at all."

"It's your thick head." She teased gently. "I was hoping that your skull was a little softer after the match and you might listen to me."

Emma huffed. "Keep dreaming."

"I know you don't want a gift, but what if you rented my broom from me?"

"No."

"Oh, come on!"

"Besides, you probably have a Bluebottle, right?"

Mary-Margaret laughed. "I'm not a mother, Emma. I have a Twigger 90."

"That's useless to me."

"It's fast!"

"There's a reason only rich bitches use them." Emma coughed suddenly. "I mean –"

"I know what you mean, but what are your options?"

"Really? A Twigger?"

"I thought that maybe you could rent it from me for the school year, and then maybe if you liked it, you could work for my father to pay the remainder off."

"Can I think about it?"

"Yes, of course." Mary settled back and reopened her book.

Emma let her gaze stray out the window. A new broom would be fantastic, she mused, and it may even give her the advantage she needed to win Regina's affection back.

0-0-0

Emma eyed David curiously. He was watching her from across the Great Hall – she knew who he was from Mary-Margaret's nearly constant chatter, but she didn't think he was at all knowledgeable about her. Watching the Gryffindor table was easier than looking for Regina, who would undoubtedly avoid eye contact.

David met her gaze, smiled hesitantly, and then turned to Mary-Margaret. "Did she say yes?"

Mary shook her head subtly. "She's proud."

"She works hard." There was admiration in his words. "I can respect that."

"I'm not trying to make this charity. But the fact is she's an excellent player who just needs a new broom."

"Relax." He grabbed her hand before she could stab her potatoes with more violence than was necessary. "I'm sure she's glad for your offer. You can't just shove it down her throat."

"I know."

He glanced back at Emma and offered a friendly smile. Emma frowned in response and glared down at her own meal. Whatever they were talking about, it was clearly something related to her. She hated when people talked about her. She'd been the butt of too many jokes while growing up that even polite conversation behind her back was distrusted and unwanted.

She took a final bite and swallowed before she could even taste whatever had been on her fork. Humbert called her name, but she ignored him. She strode between the tables, intent on returning to the Basement without further interaction – but something made her pause behind Regina.

"Is there something you wanted?"

Emma swallowed roughly. "I was wondering – where you've been lately."

"I've been busy, Swan."

"Are we…" Emma blinked slowly, aware that there was a torrent of emotion swirling inside. She wrangled her heart into submission and tried again. "Will you continue training me?"

"You had one chance." Regina answered curtly. "You failed."

Emma's hands tightened in her cloak. "But-"

"You heard me, Swan." Regina hadn't even turned around. Her clipped tone made Emma feel small. "I'm afraid it wouldn't be seemly if we extended our interactions. You should, however, feel grateful for the help I have already given you. You were worthless before, but now-"

"Yeah, thanks a lot." Emma didn't wait for Regina to continue demeaning her. She knocked her bag against the brunette's back and stomped off. As she sulked away she resolved to take Mary-Margaret up on that offer. She'd get a better broom, she'd train hard, and then she'd show Regina just what she was made of. There was a month until the Hufflepuff's next game, and she was going to be ready.


	7. Chapter 7

"And how have your classes been?"

Regina locked her fists behind her back and reported dutifully on her progress. Cora's face flickered with the flames and Regina wasn't sure if her mother was pleased. She concluded with an update on her plans for the weekend, but Cora didn't bid her good bye.

"Was there something else, Mother?"

"You have ended your association with that girl."

"Of course."

Regina's heart twinged. She clenched her fists a little tighter. It was agonizing to stare past Emma during meals, and to ignore the hopeful look in Emma's eyes when they passed each other in the halls. She'd hated watching the friendliness drain from the blonde's expression. After weeks of this treatment, she wouldn't be surprised if Emma hated her entirely. It was for the best, she told herself. Cora controlled her life and was ever present – Emma was merely a passing fancy.

"And you have no further plans to fraternize with the girl?"

"None." Regina was incredibly glad Cora hadn't asked about her desire to see Emma. She had a difficult time lying to her mother and wasn't sure she could convince Cora of anything other than how badly she wanted to apologize to the blonde for the horrible treatment.

"Hm. Need I remind you of our family's position?"

"No, Mother."

"You will leave that girl alone. Your silly crush will fade with time, my dear." Cora's lean face eased from a deep frown to an almost loving smile – but the expression stopped short of exuding warmth.

Regina hadn't known she had been so transparent. One hand jittered, so she locked her other around it and tried to keep her voice steady. "I never had a crush on her, mother-"

"I've always known when you were lying." At the sharp edge to Cora's voice, Regina winced. "Just as now I can see you're in a snit over this. Trust me, darling, you can do much better. There are children of prominent people all around you. You don't have to settle for anyone, let alone that thing you insisted was nothing to you."

"She is nothing."

"Stop lying."

"Mother…"

"She was abandoned, you know." Cora drawled, her dark eyes unflinching. "Left at the side of the road with nothing but a blanket. Not so much as a note detailing her personal information."

"That's her business…"

"Even her parents didn't want her. So forget about her."

"Yes, Mother." Regina focused on her feet until the conclusion of their conversation.

0-0-0

Ruby waited for the flames to die down before sidling over. She was nervous about what she was about to do, but she hoped the rumors about Mills were exaggerated. Nothing she'd seen lately suggested that the older girl was unspeakably cold and unnecessarily cruel to others. Still, Ruby had no interest in being attacked, so she approached slowly, with a broad smile and a small wave.

"Uh, Mills, right?"

Regina's eyes flicked over her and settled on the slash of red lipstick across her mouth. "Lucas."

"You know who I am?"

"I make it my business to know my housemates."

Ruby licked her lips. "Well, then maybe you'd be willing to help me out with something?"

"I'm busy."

"If you could just…" Ruby reached out but stopped when Regina's eyes zeroed in on her long, brightly painted fingernails. Her hand withdrew instinctively. "It's Gold. I heard you know how to deal with him."

"Gold?" One of Regina's eyebrows inched up. She'd been hoping for another chance at scoring a victory against him, but she refused to let Ruby know how truly interested she might be. "I don't deal with Gold. Nobody should."

"I didn't. He – he found out some stuff that I really need to stay private. Like really really." Ruby fiddled with the edge of her cloak. "Like, I'll pay you to help me."

"What has he said to you?"

"He knows what happened. And if I don't owe him a favor, payable at his demand, he'll send it as a Howler. I know owing him anything is a terrible decision. I just need your help convincing him that he shouldn't do this."

"I-"

"You're the only one who's ever stood up to him, Mills." Ruby stepped forward and pressed her palms together. "I need your help. Please."

"Aren't you afraid of being in my debt?" Regina avoided agreeing. There was nothing to be done if Gold has his mind set on something, and she clearly had no means of changing his intentions, or even getting back at him. She couldn't just admit that, though. She had a reputation.

"Not really." Ruby rubbed the back of her neck. "You're a Slytherin, too. We sorta stick together, don't we?"

"I hadn't noticed."

"I just mean that anything you'd ask of me – I doubt it would be as awful as what he'd want."

"I'm the lesser of two evils, hm?"

Ruby flushed until her cheeks matched her lipstick. "I didn't mean-"

"You did." Regina sighed. She often wondered why the chipper girl was in her house. The girl would do better in Gryffindor, she thought, where the people were sickeningly optimistic and friendly. Lucas was far from clever, cunning, and manipulative – except for the fact that she'd just talked Regina into helping. "Very well. Let's go find Gold and get this sorted out."

0-0-0

She stalked down the hallway with Ruby tailing a few feet behind. The girl's nervous energy was contagious, but Regina maintained as close to a calm demeanor as she could. Gold would focus directly in on any perceived weakness, so she had to appear unmoved and bored. By the time they found him lurking around the library, Ruby had worked herself into a nervous fit.

"Gold, a moment?"

Gold eyed Ruby and smiled. "Have you come to your decision?"

Regina snapped her fingers and drew Gold's attention to her. "Don't talk to her. Talk to me."

"Is she your new girlfriend?" He tittered at the subtle twitch of Regina's mouth. "Your old one didn't quite work out – she doesn't do much well, does she? Except, perhaps, functioning as a bludger target. She's quite excellent at that."

"I'm not here to discuss Swan." She snapped, inwardly seething that he knew exactly how to antagonize her. "You are blackmailing one of my housemates, Gold, and I won't stand for it."

He leaned against the wall and dug a knut out of his pocket. He fiddled with it and walked it between his fingers. It was a bit of muggle sleight of hand, and it irritated Regina to no end. The small motion was meant to be distracting, or at the very least intimidating. She grabbed his wrist to make him stop.

"My business with Lucas doesn't concern you."

Her grip tightened. "You dug into her business-"

"And found out that she killed her boyfriend?" The glee he felt from watching Ruby's expression crumble made Regina furious. She squeezed tighter until his fingertips turned purple.

"If that's the truth, then that's her business. Not yours."

"People deserve to know they've got a feral werewolf among them." He spat and wrested his wrist away from her. "Unless, of course, she's willing to-"

"She deserves her privacy."

"Tut-tut." He chuckled. "She deserves whatever I give her."

Ruby sputtered. "That's not even-"

"What's going on out here?"

Ruby glanced at the girl who left the library, but Regina and Gold maintained angry glares at one another. She'd seen the Ravenclaw around and was of the opinion that it wasn't fair for one person to be the epitome of perfection in so many ways. French was kind, and sweet, or so Ruby had gathered, and her smile made Ruby want to melt. What she was doing with a creep like Gold – Ruby couldn't begin to fathom.

"Just wrapping up some business."

Regina took the opening as a chance for leverage. "He was just telling us how he is planning on telling Lucas's secret to the entirety of the school unless she owes him a favor."

French frowned. "Is this true."

Gold's lip drew back in a snarl. "That's a gross simplification of the situation."

"Lucas?" French glanced at Ruby and smiled.

Ruby tucked a loose strand of hair behind one ear and gave French a shaky grin. "It's basically true."

"He won't tell anyone. I promise." The smile French wore was gentle and reassuring. Ruby's nerves eased.

Gold looked about to argue, so Regina jerked her head at Ruby and walked away. Ruby considered thanking French, but instead blushed and ran after Regina.

0-0-0

"Thank you."

Regina rolled her eyes. "I didn't do anything."

"You agreed to help me, no questions asked."

"This doesn't make us friends. I hope you know that."

"Would that really be so awful?" Ruby lingered near the entrance to the Dungeon. "Having me as a friend?"

Regina recognized the tremble in Ruby's voice, and the silent plea in her eyes. "If I had friends, you wouldn't be a bad choice. But I don't."

"I get it…" Ruby cleared her throat. "I don't really have friends, either."

"Do you ever feel you were sorted wrong?"

Ruby shook her head slowly. "I – I didn't want to be in Gryffindor, if that's what you're thinking. I don't think I'd belong there."

"Oh?"

"Sorting's tricky. It puts you where you need to be. I don't want attention – I just want to get through school and – well, I don't know what's next, but I've got time." Ruby cleared her throat, suddenly eager to change the subject. "Can I give you some advice? In exchange for helping me?"

"I suppose you'll impart your wisdom no matter what I say."

"You know me too well already. About that girl you were hanging around."

"I don't want to talk about her. Our friendship, if it could even be called that, has been terminated."

"It doesn't have to end like that. You can still apologize. You have that chance. You'll hate yourself if you don't – if you miss your chance and she's gone forever." Ruby's lower lip trembled, but she caught hold of herself. "Don't mess it up."

"Thank you for your sagely advice." Regina wanted more acid in her tone, but couldn't muster any. "But I have no interest in rekindling any sort of relationship with Swan."

Ruby clicked her tongue. "Well, I mean, it's up to you – but people deserve to be happy, don't they? That's what they keep telling me, anyway. No matter what you've done in the past, or who your family is, you have the same right to being happy as everyone else."

"Are you happy?"

"Sometimes." Ruby smiled again, and this time Regina understood the expression for what it really was. The other girl was sliding by, using a mask to avoid questions. It was much warmer than Cora's humorless grin from that morning, but just as hollow. "Are you?"

She really shouldn't make friends with strays. She could just imagine the chiding she'd receive for hanging around Ruby, whose past was apparently as shady as Emma's. Still, she had no interest in making Ruby's life harder – if she could take away the dark thoughts and memories, she would have. Instead, though, she'd have to settle for some sort of friendship.

"At times."

"When you were with her." Ruby guessed.

"Not necessarily. The two are not related." Regina argued.

"Talk to her."

"I can't."

"You can." Ruby insisted. "You just have to get past yourself."


	8. Chapter 8

"It's a nice night, isn't it?" His hand curled around her back. She let him scoot her closer. "But the stars don't compare to your eyes."

"Stop." She laughed. His attempts at being complimentary were always so ham-handed. They made her laugh, rather than feel good about herself. "If all you have is cheesy commentary, just sit quietly and look pretty."

"I can do that."

"I knew there was a reason we were together."

"We look good together." He pressed his lips to the side of her neck and his hand slipped between her cloak and her blouse.

"James."

"What's the problem?"

She leaned away. "You know I'm not – this isn't – I mean…"

"What's the problem? Nobody can see us."

"I know…"

"Unless you don't like me?"

"I do!" She grabbed the sleeve of his cloak. "Don't doubt for a second that I like you."

"If you did, you wouldn't be so opposed to affection."

"This is just – I was raised to respect myself, James." She stared directly at him, determined to make him understand. "And yes, I like you – but I'm not ready for what you want. So maybe nobody can see us, but that's not the problem. The problem is you want more than I can give."

"If you don't want me, why are we together? I'm willing to wait, but how long is that going to be?"

"I don't know."

"Mary, I'm not trying to hurt you. This is just a physical expression of how we feel about each other, right? Well, you saying no is pretty much saying no, you don't feel anything for me."

"Is that really what you think?"

"We'll take it slow." He promised and leaned back in. "Baby steps, babe."

"No." She pushed his shoulder. "I just said I wasn't comfortable with this."

"Fine." He jerked back. "So we won't do it."

"Thank you."

"We won't do anything." He stood and glared down at her. "We're done."

"What?" Her voice trembled. "But – just because I won't let you touch me – we're suddenly over?"

"That pretty much sums it up." He frowned. Rejection hurt, and he wasn't about to let her turn him down again. If she wasn't willing to dance to his tune, he'd find a new partner. They were certainly other choices available to him.

"James!"

He shrugged. "Look, we weren't even that serious, were we?"

"We were together for a year."

"And it was a good year. See you around." He tipped his fingers at her and strode away – not allowing himself to listen to her soft sobs.

0-0-0

Emma had no idea what was expected of her when Mary-Margaret tumbled against her and pressed a teary face to her neck. She was mildly mortified by the thought that there may be some form of mucus being pressed against her, but she resisted the urge to pull away. Unsure of herself, she patted Mary's back awkwardly.

"There, there?"

"He broke up with me."

"James?"

Mary made a sound quite akin to a balloon losing air. "Because – because," she dropped her voice to a whisper, "because I wouldn't let him – you know – touch me. That way."

"Well he's a douche." Emma tried. "You can do better."

Mary's hand clenched in her cloak. "Oh, I know that. I do. But, like, it doesn't help right now."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to say anything. Just – let me stay."

Emma nodded and tried not to feel too hurt that her attempts at consoling Mary had been rebuffed. She stood there, mildly uncomfortable, and let her friend cry quietly against her. She didn't have anything against James on a personal level, other than his actions were forcing her out of her comfort zone, but she was suddenly consumed with a desire to physically attack him.

"I'm sorry." She repeated. "I wish there was something I could do."

Mary smiled against her skin. "You're doing enough just being here."

"Well, that's good." Emma drew back so she could get a better look at Mary's face.

"Distract me."

"With what?"

"What's going on with you and Mills?"

"Nothing." Emma couldn't stop the bitterness that laced her tone. "There's nothing to talk about. She's an asshole."

"Oh, Emma." May hugged her tightly again. "I'm sorry."

Emma wiggled away. "It's not like I was dating her."

"You weren't?"

"What?"

"That's what it looked like to me. Like maybe you were dating in secret. I mean, you were always around each other over break."

"Because she was helping me with quidditch." Emma growled. "Apparently that's all it was."

"Did you want more?"

"I don't know. I'll never know, y'know? She kinda ruined it all. Yeah, I thought she was really attractive, but…"

"But?"

"I knew from the start listening to her was a mistake. She had a reputation, y'know, and I just ignored it. I thought, she can't be that bad, can she? And the rumor was wrong. She's much worse."

"That's not strictly true."

Emma's head jerked over. Regina watched their emotional exchange from a few feet away with one eyebrow cocked and her head tilted just so.

0-0-0

Regina hadn't wanted to seek Emma out, but Ruby kept pestering her. Finally, she'd given in simply to have some peace and quiet. She had to admit that she did miss Emma's presence and wasn't totally against finding some sort of middle ground. Her hopes crumbled a bit at the look in Emma's eyes when she interrupted.

"What do you want?"

"To talk."

"So now you want to talk."

"Yes."

"And I'm just supposed to sit here and listen?"

"No."

"Well at least you're not delusional." Emma glanced at Mary-Margaret, hoping for some back up, but the petite brunette stared back with a blank expression.

"You're supposed to meet me out on the pitch."

"No way."

"If you can beat me in a race, I'll do you one favor."

Emma examined Regina's face. "And if you win?"

"You listen to what I have to say."

"Fine. Gimme ten minutes."

0-0-0

For the first time, Emma was grateful for having taken Mary-Margaret up on her offer. The Twigger wasn't the best broom on the market, but it was certainly much faster than her other options. She could at least count on this one to make it up to high speeds without trembling underneath her.

Even though it took Emma twelve minutes to appear, Regina didn't comment on the time. She waited for Emma to reach her side and then launched into a detailed explanation of the course of their race. They would leave the pitch and weave around the castle – weaving between pillars, going up and over towers, and past the Whomping Willow for added layers of difficulty. Emma listened closely and blew on her fingers. She should have worn Regina's gloves, just to spite the brunette.

"Is this course acceptable to you?"

"Yeah." Emma swung her leg over her broom. "Let's get this over with."

Regina took to the air, waited for Emma to sidle up next to her, and then muttered a spell. A glowing countdown launched in front of them and she tucked her wand away. When it hit zero, Emma zoomed forward. Regina chased after her, very eager to win the match. She had no doubt that should Emma win, the blonde would ask to never see her again. That was impermissible. She tightened her grip on her broom, bent her head against the freezing wind, and barreled forward.

She heard Emma's grunt of frustration when she pulled ahead, but didn't dare look back. She dodged between towers and deftly avoided an owl. In her peripherals she could see Emma edging closer – the girl had found a faster broom, she noted. She had expected a challenge in this race, but it would be closer than she anticipated.

Emma overtook her around one sharp corner, but the blonde's broom warped as it sped up. Regina zipped past her and hurried toward the pitch. Emma regained control of her broom and hurried to catch up. Thinking she was in the clear, Regina relaxed and enjoyed the last straightaway of their race – but Emma pulled up beside her, smirked cockily, and thudded down to the finish line first.

Rage bubbled in Regina's belly, but she could hardly act like a sore sport. She landed lightly and frowned. "What do you want?"

"Admit that I'm just as good as you."

"What?"

"You treat me like I'm beneath you. So just admit it. I'm every bit as good as you are."

"That's all you want?" Emma only scowled in response, so Regina nodded. "Very well. I can honestly say you're every bit as good as I am."

"Thanks."

"Will you listen to me?"

"I don't know if you deserve it."

"I don't." Regina stared down at her feet. "But I'm hoping you're more forgiving than I have been in the past."

Emma sighed. "I'm cold. Can we take this inside?"

Regina nodded stiffly.

0-0-0

"You are aware of my familial situation, are you not?"

Emma snorted. "Family is so not a reason to be awful to other people. I could use my shitty home life as an excuse to be unnecessarily cruel, but I guess I'm a better person than you are."

"That is, I think, what I find most attractive about you."

"What?" Emma felt her eyes bugging out of her skull, and blinked to keep from looking too much like a goldfish. This felt a little like a dream – she'd never imagined that Regina would ever say anything too complimentary, especially after she'd failed to beat Ravenclaw.

"I won't say it again." Regina gritted out. "I admitted that you my equal at quidditch and riding your broom, but – you are better than me with regards to how you treat other people. I apologize for how I've treated you – and hope your capacity for forgiveness far outshines my own."

"I don't know."

"You may think about it." Regina tried to smile, but the expression floundered. "My mother ordered me not to see you anymore, and I listened. I have, however, recently made a new friend who pointed out the error of my decision. I know I may have hurt you."

"May?" Emma snapped. "Do you have any idea how I felt about you?"

"No."

"I liked you so fucking much it hurt. You took an interest in me and I thought – wow, this is my chance to finally get her to notice me! I took a beating because I was trying to help you out – and did you even come visit me in the hospital wing? No."

"I thought about it."

"Oh, I'm sure. That's really touching, Mills."

"I've made mistakes."

"Yeah, you have. And I'm not sure I'm ready to be around you."

Regina cleared her throat. "Very well. You listened, and so you owe me nothing more. Good night, Swan."


	9. Chapter 9

"Where's your next class?"

"Astronomy tower." Emma dug through her satchel. "Yours?"

Regina was already calculating how much time it would take her to make her way from the Great Hall, to the tower, and then down to the dungeons for Potions. If they hurried, she'd make it with a few minutes to spare.

"Dungeons."

Though part of Emma wanted to release Regina from limbo, the more vindictive part of her held fast. "Then you'll have enough time, right?"

"I'm not sure." Still, Regina accepted the books that were shoved into her hands. Emma's idea of retribution came in small acts of humiliation – or, as Emma thought of them, public displays of nonaggression. She wanted Emma in her life and was willing to put up with a lot. If Emma wanted her to carry books between classes, she'd do it in the hopes that Emma would someday soon relent.

"We better hurry, then." Emma held out her hand and Regina reluctantly took it. The discomfort was worth Emma's wide smile, though, so she made no complaint and merely kept pace with Emma's gait. At the base of the tower, Emma took her books back. "I'll see you after class."

She disappeared up into the tower with barely a glance over her shoulder. It was something, Regina mused, if not the total forgiveness she was hoping for. At the very least Emma had begun talking to her – and she didn't want to over think things, but the hand holding had to mean that Emma liked her somehow. Regina lingered in the hall for a moment, staring wistfully up the stairs, before remembering the time crunch and darting down towards the dungeons.

Emma took her seat next and stared down at her parchment. She was still stewing quietly over Regina's treatment of her, but she had to admit that she preferred her life when Regina was in it. It was getting harder and harder to come across as cross, and she was afraid Regina knew this was a technicality to keep distance between them until she could figure out what exactly she wanted.

She fiddled with her quill and tuned most of the lesson out. The ritual of Regina walking to her class had been started a week before and Emma found that she enjoyed it more than she thought she would. They were both busy people and she delighted in the small moments she got all of Regina's attention.

0-0-0

"Holding hands in the hallway!" Cora raged. Regina was glad that her mother couldn't simply reach through the flames and strangle her. "People have been talking, Regina. If you're touching in public, there's no accounting for what you're doing privately."

"Nothing, Mother – I promise."

"It doesn't matter what you've been doing. It matters what people think you've been doing. At this rate, you'll be no good to the family name."

"Mother…"

"You've been late to three classes since resuming your little – friendship with that girl." Cora's gaze hardened. "I will not let our social standing suffer because of your teenage need for rebellion. This is a phase, and one you will grow out of posthaste. Or would you prefer not coming home this summer?"

Regina bit down on her lower lip. "I want to come home."

Cora's voice softened. "Consider what you're doing, my darling girl. You're throwing away your reputation on what? A girl who will never be able to give you the life you're accustomed to."

"There's more to life than things, Mother." Regina whispered. She cleared her throat and met Cora's gaze. "I understand what you're saying, but-"

"But Regina must make mistakes." There was no disguising Cora's contempt.

"I have to." Regina shot back. "As they are mine to make."

0-0-0

Regina adjusted her gloves – they were several years old and more than a little dusty, but the lining was fleece and the leather flexible. She couldn't stop the smile that flitted across her lips when she spotted Emma wearing her newer ones. The blonde met her gaze and smirked back.

"Ready to lose, Mills?"

"Are you?" She countered. Despite her light hearted bantering, Regina was worried about the Hufflepuff-Slytherin match. One of them was going to lose, and she wasn't sure Emma could take the loss. She wouldn't be a sore loser, of course, because Regina had been raised better than that, but she had no idea how Emma would react nonetheless.

"Oh we'll see about that." Emma tossed her broom handle from hand to hand. "How about a friendly wager?"

"Those never seem to work out the way I want them to."

"Scared?"

"Ten galleons to the winner."

"Done." Emma held her hand out, then jerked it back before Regina could shake on it. "Too slow, Mills. You might want to work on those reflexes if you expect to win."

The challenge drew a growl from Regina's gut – not an angry noise, but a playful one. It took her by surprise, and from Emma's wide eyes, the blonde was startled as well. Emma's eyes slid down her body and Regina wondered just what that small utterance had done to the other girl. When their eyes locked again, Regina snorted and stalked towards the pitch.

"Let's get this over with."

From the first whistle, Regina kept her eyes focused on the quaffle. She dove through the air, spun around a whizzing bludger, and dodged deftly through the crowds of students gathered in the stands. Emma was never far behind and when she threw the quaffle to her fellow chaser, Emma swooped in front and snagged it from the air.

"Gotta love how quick this broom is." Emma taunted, her lips turning up at the corners. "Puts you to shame, doesn't it?"

Before Regina could utter a comeback, the blonde was zipping toward the opposite goal posts. She bent over her broom and followed – her keeper blocked the shot, and she grabbed it as the quaffle bounced back into play.

"Still secondhand, though, huh Swan?" She called over her shoulder. Even as the wind stole the words from her lips, Emma scowled, having clearly heard the insult.

Back and forth they whipped. Their teams helped, but Regina knew this was a battle between Emma and herself – a true test of who was the superior chaser. Twenty minutes in, she saw the quaffle flying through the air and nearly froze.

She could let Emma win. Emma would like her again, she thought. If Emma could prove her skills with the entire school watching, she would no doubt drop the routine of disliking Regina. She could tell that most of the anger had already fled – and this might be the perfect way to dispel the rest. She could have Emma as a friend. Her hand tightened on her broom.

She flung herself after the quaffle, caught it, and tossed it through the nearest hoop. Emma's affection wouldn't come from her throwing one quidditch match. Theirs was a relationship built on competition and drive. If Emma was to win, she'd want to do it with pure skill and determination. She'd hate to learn that Regina let it happen.

She pawed the sweat from her forehead and refocused on the game. A bludger flew past her head, but she fell to the side just in time. One of Hufflepuff's beaters laughed and she snarled at him. As she pulled her broom up to chase down the quaffle, the final whistle blew. The Hufflepuff seeker had caught the snitch – ending the game in Hufflepuff's favor by ten points. Regina drifted to the pitch, dismounted, and left before anyone could say a word to her.

0-0-0

"She did it!" Mary clung to David's cloak. "She really did!"

He smiled at her, glad to finally see happiness back in her expression. When James had returned to the doors with a dismayed scowl, David hadn't been sure what occurred. From Mary's subsequent downtrodden expression, he'd guessed that one way or another they'd broken up – but he didn't want to meddle. If one of them felt like talking, he'd be more than willing to listen.

"I had a feeling she might."

She pulled him into an enthusiastic hug and he wrapped his arms around her. The embrace lasted a moment longer than it should have, and they both pulled back with red cheeks. "We ought to go congratulate her."

He nodded quickly. "Yes. That is a brilliant idea."

She tangled her fingers in her hair and pulled every strand flat. "David, listen-"

"It's okay." He reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. "I'm here for you if you need me, okay?"

She searched his gaze and nodded. He didn't miss the small sigh of relief that slipped between her lips. "Okay."

"If it makes you feel any better, he hasn't been telling anyone what happened." He offered. "He's been dead silent about the whole thing."

"He hasn't been very subtle about his new girlfriend, though, has he?" She sighed. "Kathryn will be good for him. She puts up with less nonsense than I ever did."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're not your brother."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and ushered her toward the stairs. "I think we're both happy about that."

0-0-0

Regina ignored every voice that called after her. She had been prepared to lose, but completely expected to win. To have victory yanked out from under her feet – she couldn't quite control her anger. Rather than be a sore loser, she fled.

"Will you just stop a second?"

A hand caught her elbow and spun her around. She glared at Emma, and then averted her eyes. "I don't have my money with me, Swan. I'll pay you later."

"Are you angry that I won?"

"No."

Emma wanted to push further, but got the distinct feeling that doing so would only create a chasm between them. "Oh, well that's good. Mary, David, and me were gonna celebrate – if you wanted to join us?"

"I don't feel much like celebrating."

"I totally get it." Emma hesitated. "Could I maybe ask for something else, rather than ten galleons?"

"We agreed-"

"Can I kiss you? Can that be my prize?"

Regina understood this to be a mistake, but pulled Emma close anyway. She let Emma's scent overpower her senses and pressed their lips together gingerly. The blonde was overeager and excited, but Regina set a languid pace that demanded Emma slow down. As Emma's hands slid around her neck, Regina realized that she'd wanted this from the beginning. The odd draw she'd felt towards Emma was physical attraction.

Emma drew back, short on breath, and sighed. "Well, thank you. For that. I mean. Uhm."

"Close your mouth. You're yammering." Regina scolded. "You act as if you've never kissed before."

"Never someone who meant as much to me as you do."

Regina tugged her roughly back in. She didn't care if it got back to Cora – this was a mistake she wanted to make over and over again.


	10. Chapter 10

Regina glanced up as her new friend plopped down beside her. Ruby snagged an apple from the nearest fruit bowl, polished it on her sleeve, and crunched into it, all the while staring at Regina and grinning.

"Do you require something?"

"I was just noticing that lovely ring."

Regina nearly jerked her hand from the table in an effort to hide it, but refrained. That action would look highly suspicious, and she wanted to play this off as no big deal. Her eyes darted to the simple silver band but returned to her breakfast rather quickly.

"Good for you."

"Is it from someone special?"

Regina wasn't quite used to this friendly banter – her prior interactions involved more scathing remarks and fewer good natured jibes. Still, this sort of conversation was preferred. "It's just a ring. Don't read too much into it."

"It's pretty."

"Thank you."

Truthfully, Regina thought it was a little lackluster compared to her other jewelry – at least in its physical appearance. What it meant to her, however, overrode her disdain for its simplicity. Besides, she understood that Emma had limited means and was grateful to receive any sort of gift at all.

"I'm glad you're letting yourself be happy," Ruby continued. She caught sight of someone approaching and ducked down to the table. Whatever she had to say, it was going to wait.

"Lucas?" Regina arched an eyebrow and turned slowly. Upon sighting French, she smirked. The polite bookworm certainly had an uncanny ability to rob Ruby of her confidence.

"Good morning." French bobbed her head at Regina before focusing in on Ruby's hunched form. "Is everything okay, Ruby?"

Feeling foolish, Ruby sat up straighter. "Oh, just fine. Thanks."

"You shouldn't hide like that."

"Oh?"

"I would miss seeing your smile if you kept your face pressed to your forearm." French's laughter tinkled and coaxed a blush to Ruby's cheeks. She reached past Ruby and selected a roll. The roll disappeared into her pocket as she walked back towards the Ravenclaw table.

"I don't think I've seen you any redder," Regina teased.

Ruby frowned. "It's not right. She's got a boyfriend. Why's she talking to me like that?"

"Have you seen him around lately?" Regina couldn't quite keep the humor from her voice.

"What did you do?"

Regina finished her breakfast and dabbed her lips with a napkin. "I didn't do anything. I may have suggested to several of his debtors that there are more of them than there are of him."

"You convinced people to beat him?"

Regina rolled her eyes. "I told them to enumerate their complaints and turn them into the Headmaster. One at a time, Gold could have dismissed their accusations. Against a group, however, he had a harder time defending his actions."

"Sneaky, Mills. Really sneaky." Ruby snorted. "I approve."

"If you were interested in-"

"Whoa," Ruby cut in. "Let's not go there, okay?"

"You continue to tell me I ought to let myself be happy, but you refuse the same advice."

"I know I'm a hypocrite," Ruby groaned. "But you seriously don't know what it's like to be me. I ruin everything."

"You haven't ruined me," Regina countered.

"I'm working up the nerve, okay?"

"You don't need to get defensive."

"Ugh, you're impossible."

"You like it."

Ruby nibbled on her apple for a moment before answering. "Yeah, I guess so. Otherwise why would I stick around?"

"I am quite charming, when given the opportunity. Also, I come from a long line of excellent witches and wizards. Did I mention that I'm humble?" There was a rather downtrodden tremor to her tone, as if she didn't quite believe her own words.

"And modest." Ruby glanced across the hall. "At least, she thinks you are."

Regina followed her gaze and watched Emma avidly reenacting some story or another. "Yes, there's that."

0-0-0

Mary-Margaret settled against David and smiled as his arms encompassed her. The cool weather of spring was rapidly burning off with the approach of summer. While the rest of their classmates ate breakfast in the Great Hall, she'd pulled him outside. Given her druthers, she always preferred nature to the crowded halls of Hogwarts.

"It's a beautiful day out, isn't it?"

"Almost as beautiful as you are."

She butted him with her shoulder. "I guess cheesy lines run in your family."

"Maybe." He kissed the crown of her head. "But if you were interested in poetry, I'm sure that Whale guy would be more than willing to write epics about your gorgeousness."

"David!"

"I read that letter he sent you."

"It's weird," she huffed. "I complimented his wand work once – just once! And then suddenly I'm getting flowers with the morning post."

"He's not bad to look at."

"Oh be quiet." She nuzzled her nose against his neck. "You don't need to feed me lines, David. I'm not going anywhere."

"That's good to know. But I also don't want you to forget how lovely you are."

"David…"

"I'm being serious." He unwrapped his arms and pulled away to get a better look at her face. "James may be a bit – arrogant-"

"And pretentious," she added.

"He is still my brother," David chuckled. "So maybe lay off a bit?"

"You're right. He just makes me so…" She trailed off, aware that her anger was getting the better of her. She took a deep breath and released the negative emotions crowding her chest. "You were saying?"

"I think his biggest mistake was letting you go, first of all. But before that, he never bothered to let you know how much you meant to him. I saw the letters you sent him – and the notes he sent back. I wanted to stop him and shake his shoulders. She's writing you such heartfelt sentiments, I wanted to say, and you're sending back the equivalent of 'Have a good summer.' He wouldn't have appreciated that, though."

"You don't need to say that."

"I know I don't. Really, I don't need to say anything. But I want to. How else will you know what I'm thinking?"

She scooted closer to him once more and rested her head on his chest. She wondered if she'd be as grateful for him if she'd met him first and James second. What James had done had left her miserable, but the break up gave her the chance to reevaluate herself. Now, months later, she was confident in what she wanted. David had his faults, such as his loyalty to his brother, she thought, but he was also patient with her and never wanted to pressure her.

"Do you ever think that bad things have to happen in order for the good in life to happen as well?"

He watched a cloud drift slowly across the sky. "If nothing else it makes me appreciate the good stuff."

It wasn't the answer she was looking for, but she wasn't going to be too picky. She followed his gaze and relaxed. The air was thick with the heady with the aroma blossoming flowers, and that scent mingled with his. She breathed deeply.

0-0-0

"Lemme get that." Emma whipped her wand out and levitated Regina's trunk. She then guided the floating container into the train car. "I still can't believe you're going home."

"I must." Regina's eyes flickered to the wand. "Is that made of willow?"

"Yeah. Willow, ten and a half inches, with a kelpie mane core. Springy." Emma offered it to Regina, who politely shook her head. Recognizing that Regina was deftly trying to change the subject, Emma continued, "But stop distracting me. Why are you going home? You know you're welcome with me and my parents. Mom, anyway, would really like to meet you."

Regina wanted to accept that offer, as it would undoubtedly provide a more fulfilling vacation, but she couldn't simply sidestep her responsibilities. "I'd join you if I didn't think it prudent to pander to my mother's wishes."

"She's going to set you up on dates, isn't she?" Emma let out a melodramatic sigh. She'd never be loved by Regina's mother, but she had an absurd hope that she might be someday accepted. To know that the woman was going out of her way to separate them was disheartening.

"Most likely."

Cora had indeed threatened such in their most recent conversations – her infatuation with the Swan girl was a passing phase, one that could be uprooted if Regina surrounded herself with the right sort of people. Her summer would be filled with boring tea parties, and walks through the garden with well-meaning, but ultimately vapid, people.

"How will I know you'll be faithful to me?"

At first, Regina was surprised that Emma was worried, even in the context of a joke. She often forgot that under Emma's confident façade there was a little girl looking to prove herself worthy of everyone's attention. "I'll write."

Emma scuffed her shoe on the ground. "I'd rather see you."

"I am well aware," Regina responded, but her voice was flat. It was painful enough to go home, but Emma was unwittingly making it worse. They would miss each other, Regina was cognizant of this, and bemoaning the fact just brought it the forefront of her thoughts.

Sensing that she was pushing too hard, Emma relented. "D'you think that we could maybe see each other once or twice? Like meet up in Diagon Alley?"

"I would like that."

"We'll make it, won't we?"

Regina met Emma's gaze and nodded slowly. Emma was the most stable aspect of her life, she realized. The possibility of the demise of this particular relationship was devastating. "I insist upon seeing you at least three times. How else will I know if you're getting into trouble?"

"I'm not a troublemaker."

"Believe what you must in order to sleep at night."

Still hesitant, even after months of what could be construed as dating, Emma hung back. There were people around, and she was ever conscious of Regina's dislike for public displays of affection. They were about to leave for the summer, though, and she didn't want Regina to leave without some sort of physical good bye.

"So…"

Regina sidled up next to her and pecked her cheek – knowing full well this wasn't what the blonde was after. When Emma pouted and opened her mouth to complain, Regina kissed her properly. Despite the myriad eyes staring at them, Regina concentrated only on the way Emma melted under her touch. Her mother was always on about the power their social position granted them – but the only power Regina found she wanted was to make Emma boneless against her.

"Can I trust you not to stray?"

Emma laughed loudly, her fingers curling in Regina's cloak. "I don't think you ever have to worry about that."

They boarded the train together, intent on spending the ride back to London together.


End file.
